


Poem: Little Red Riding Hood

by PhantomSpade



Series: Fairytale Horrors [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood and Gore, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, Dark Fantasy, Fairy Tale Retellings, Horror, Other, Poetry, Sad Ending, trickery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 12:49:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15819207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomSpade/pseuds/PhantomSpade
Summary: Little Red Riding Hood: a moniker for the girl for the red hood she worn.But there's a dark secret as to why she wears a red hood...





	Poem: Little Red Riding Hood

**Author's Note:**

> Crossposted from deviantart: https://www.deviantart.com/ironackerman13/art/Fairytale-Horrors-Little-Red-Hiding-Hood-760188586
> 
> I don't own Little Red Riding Hood, the Brothers Grimm do. 
> 
> Update: Changed baby's breath to white lily to lessen the confusion. 
> 
> \---

A girl called Little Red Riding Hood,  
taken from cloak she always wore.  
Red as blood, yet followed by a strange metallic scent.  
Her hood wasn't always red. 

It was on a fateful day; the girl,  
whose hood was a pure clean white,  
was to visit her sick grandmother,  
who lived in the depths of the dim forest. 

Her mother gave her two things to take:  
a woven basket of warm treats,  
and a strict warning to keep at heart:  
"Never stray away from the narrow path."

The girl in white skipped merrily  
down the path to her grandmother's,  
her white hood fluttering to the rhythm  
of the warm breeze accompanying her.

Little did she know, a pair of eyes  
stalked her from behind the willow  
trees and berry shrubs.  
Two glowing eyes belonging to a starving wolf. 

The eyes continued to follow the girl,  
watching her skip down to oblivion.  
It was not the basket of goods he was after;  
it was the girl in the white hood herself. 

An opportunity aroused; the wolf took it.  
"Little girl in white, will you tell me  
where are you strolling to? With those  
warm goods in that basket of yours?" 

The girl was naive, didn't think for a  
second that telling the wolf where she was going  
would lead to her unfortunate fate.  
Her innocence as pure as her white hood

A plan had already formulated in the wolf's mind.  
The wolf flashed the girl with a serene grin.  
A suggestion: go off the main path to the flower fields  
and gather flowers as a gift. 

Her mother's warning became nonexistent.  
Fallen for the wolf's trick, she strayed off the path.  
With great haste, the wolf scurried down to his next  
destination: the girl's sickly grandmother's house. 

A little cottage, sitting alone in a dark patch,  
housed a frail little old woman who  
was weak and resting in her bed.  
She did not foresee her fate at the wolf's hands. 

A knock on the door; loud yet gentle on the wood.  
The old woman crept out of her warm covers  
and slowly walked over to the door.  
"Love, is that you at the door?" 

The wolf mustered up his best impression,  
mimicking the girl's voice like a treacherous parrot.  
"Yes, it is I, dear grandmother. I have come to  
see you. Will you let me inside?" 

The second the old woman opened the door,  
her head fell pray to the hungry jaws of the wolf.  
The wolf went to work to prepare his next trick;  
his real prey was coming. 

The girl in white, with the basket of goods  
and freshly plucked white lilies,  
resumed on the path to her grandmother's,  
unaware of what was awaiting her. 

Arrived at the little house in the depths.  
One, two, three small knocks on the door.  
"Granny! It is your beloved granddaughter!  
I have brought you goodies and flowers!" 

A sweet yet strangely deep voice rang out  
from behind the wooden door.  
"Come in, my dear granddaughter!  
do not let the draft in!" 

The girl in white entered the dark house,  
her eyes perceiving a large silhouette  
sitting in the bed in the dark.  
There was a strange metallic scent in the air. 

'Grandmother' peered at the girl,  
'her' eyes seemly glowing in the dark.  
"Granny, what big eyes you have!"  
"The better to see you with, my dear." 

An ax laid against the foot of the bed.  
'Grandmother's' ears perked up to attention.  
"Granny, what big ears you have!"  
"The better to hear you with, my dear." 

One step close, 'Grandmother' was shown:  
the wolf dressed in her clothes and wearing  
her face as a mask; stained with blood,  
lifeless mouth parting to hungry fangs. 

"Granny, what big teeth you have!"  
The charade dropped; the wolf reappeared.  
He flashed his bloodied mouth in hunger.  
"The better to eat you with!" 

The ax had swung, the silver shine  
quickly rusted to dark crimson.  
Blood painted everywhere: the bed  
the lilies...the pure white cloak.

The white hood became dyed with  
the blood of the greedy wolf and  
the girl's grandmother whose  
skin was worn as a source of trickery. 

The girl, then dyed in red, stared with  
wide crying eyes, a red ax,  
the baby's breaths tainted with  
the blood of the wolf and her grandmother. 

The door opened, in came the hunter.  
But was already too late. The girl  
did the deed, her innocence  
tainted by the color red. 

That was how the girl became Little Red Riding Hood. 

\---


End file.
